


Golden

by kathkin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Good gracious, it had been so long since he’d been seduced. He’d forgotten what a delectable experience it was.</i> After an exhausting run-in with the local monsters, the Doctor takes Jamie to a hot spring to relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden

“Here we are!” said the Doctor, pushing the doors open with an echoing creak. “Quite something, eh Jamie?” He rubbed his hands together in delight, a smile spreading across his face. It hadn’t changed a bit in the, oh, century or so since he’d last visited the planet. The glassy tiled floor giving way to bare rock at the edge of the pool, the gentle lapping and bubbling of the cloudy water, the rising greenish tint to the walls. Lamps hung in golden globes from the vaulted ceiling and green and white bands of light rippled on the walls. The effect was ethereal and charming and quite, quite lovely.

“It smells funny,” said Jamie.

The Doctor gave him a look. He had half a mind to say _really now, Jamie, I bring you to one of the finest – perhaps_ the _finest – bathhouses in the galaxy and all you can think to do is complain about the smell?_ Instead he rolled his eyes and let it slide. “That’s the minerals in the water,” he said. “From under the ground. It’s very good for you. Just the thing for sore muscles, eh?”

“Oh, aye.” Jamie stretched, and grunted. The doors fell closed behind them. “It’s a bit like a church.”

“It is, a bit,” reflected the Doctor, eyes flicking to the carved ceiling. “And wasn’t it nice of the king to let us have the run of the place?”

“Least he could do, if you ask me,” said Jamie. “After all we’ve done for him.”

“Yes, well.” The Doctor cleared his throat. He stepped up to the edge of the pool and looked down at the ancient tiles beneath the surface of water, at the gentle strings of bubbles rising and breaking on the surface. “I did promise you a treat, didn’t I? And once you get used to the smell it’s really very relaxi –” He broke off.

From beside him had come a distinct sound, a soft _thwap_ of fabric hitting the floor. He hardly dared look. He really oughtn’t look. He looked.

Jamie was stripping off right there beside the pool. The Doctor supposed he really ought to tell Jamie there was a changing area through the archway, but then again there wasn’t anyone around and probably wouldn’t be till morning so it probably – probably didn’t – matter –

There was – oh, dear – a lot of skin being uncovered, as Jamie’s layers of clothing fell away. Forearms – shoulders – chest and oh goodness, perfectly flat stomach, all of it looking ever so touchable in the soft light.

He rubbed his hands together, begging himself to look away, to look _anywhere_ other than at the spectacle before him. Jamie didn’t _mean_ anything by it, he told himself. After all, it _was_ customary to swim here naked – and that was probably what Jamie was used to – just a little nudity between friends. Jamie would surely be mortified if he caught the Doctor looking.

Jamie had his kilt unwrapped and was folding it up before himself when he chanced to look up – and caught the Doctor’s gaze.

The Doctor froze, his eyes widening, his hands stilling. Oh, no. Rumbled. But Jamie didn’t _look_ mortified. He looked mildly confused. He looked down at himself, all but naked. He squinted at the Doctor, pensive, studying his face as if sizing him up.

In a single smooth motion, he tossed aside his kilt and stood entirely exposed. The Doctor couldn’t help but rake his gaze up and down Jamie’s body, taking it all in. He swallowed, his stomach turning a triple forward roll, for Jamie was sighing, stretching, showing off his firm arms and chest to wonderful effect. “You’re blushin’,” he said.

“I am not,” said the Doctor, resisting the urge to go over there and put his mouth on every bit of Jamie’s skin he could reach. First his neck, at his pulse point – then his shoulder – then –

“Aye, you are.” Jamie took a pace towards him, swinging his arms idly. “You’re blushin’ right up to your ears.”

“I’m doing nothing of the sort,” said the Doctor, though he could feel perfectly well that his face was growing steadily hotter. He resisted the urge to fetch out his handkerchief and give himself a pat down. Honestly, it was hot enough in the bathhouse without Jamie doing this – this – whatever he was doing.

“Is this botherin’ you?” Jamie motioned at the pile of discarded clothing. “Cause I can put my clothes back on –”

“No!” exclaimed the Doctor without really meaning to. He cleared his throat. “I mean, ah. No. You do whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Alright.” Jamie nodded. “Comfortable. Aye.” He turned away, looking out over the water, and the Doctor breathed out a sign of relief that certain, ah, _parts_ of him were no longer on display.

His relief was premature. Jamie was stretching luxuriously, stretching out his arms, making the muscles of his back ripple in a quite magnificent manner, showing off a perfectly formed – ah. The Doctor choked down a whimper, and said, “do you have to do that?”

“Do what?” Jamie looked at him over his shoulder. “I’m no’ doin’ anything. I’m just makin’ myself comfortable. Like you said, aye?”

“I, ah –” Jamie stretched again, groaning, and this time the Doctor couldn’t suppress his little whine of arousal. It was only sheer force of will that was preventing certain _parts_ of himself from making themselves obvious.

Jamie turned about and walked pat-pat-pat across the tiles towards him. “Sooo,” he said, “are you comin’?”

“Pardon?” choked the Doctor.

“Are you comin’ in with me?” Jamie jerked his head at the pool.

“Oh!” said the Doctor. “I, ah. I don’t think so, Jamie. To tell you the truth, I don’t think I’m, ah,” he was acutely aware of Jamie looking him up and down and up and down, as if drinking him all in, “I’m not really in the right mood.”

“That’s a shame,” said Jamie. “I was hopin’ you would. It’d be nice.” Then – oh, mercy – he put his hand on the Doctor’s upper arm.

The Doctor looked at Jamie’s coy, earnest face. He looked at Jamie’s hand, gently creasing the cloth of his coat.

And oh, gracious, this was absurd. This was like – like taking a child into a sweetshop and then telling them they couldn’t eat any of the sweeties. Here he was, and there Jamie was, _naked_ and _flirting_ and he had no-one to blame but himself – and he really – couldn’t. He ought to walk away. He ought to walk out of the bathhouse and leave Jamie to have his soak alone and go back to his room in the palace and then perhaps deal with the little problem he’d created by himself. He really shouldn’t – couldn’t – indulge himself. Jamie was so young and so human and so – very – stroking his arm.

He tore his gaze from Jamie’s hand where it was caressing his arm through his coat and looked him dead in the eye, for it was that or look down. Against all his better judgement, he said, “yes. That, ah, sounds very nice Jamie.”

Jamie’s face broke into a cheeky grin, his teeth catching momentarily at his lower lip in a manner that left the Doctor in no doubt as to what he intended. It was a downright unsavoury intention and it would be downright irresponsible for him to go along with it. So he wouldn’t. Truly.

A few minutes later, he pattered naked through the archway towards the spring, a touch self-conscious – he wasn’t bothered by other beings seeing his naked body, as a rule, but it’d been some time, and it was only natural to be a touch apprehensive of what Jamie might make of him – and still dithering.

Jamie was comfortably in the water, his hair damp, his legs waving out before the seat. At the sound of the Doctor’s footsteps, he glanced around and looked him up and down with an air of appreciation that was somehow simultaneously spiriting and disarming. The Doctor stopped short at the edge of the pool, struck by an urge to cover himself.

“You comin’ in?”

“Ah, yes.” The Doctor padded along the edge of the spring to a comfortable looking spot a good way around the curve from Jamie. He slid into the pool, hissing and sighing at the hot, bubbling water, and wriggled about, getting used to the sensations. Yes, this would do very nicely. They could have a nice soak together and then – oh, good gracious. He wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself. 

Water splashed. Jamie was scooting along the seat towards him. He stopped an inch or two shy of actually touching and slid his arm along the edge of the pool, behind the Doctor’s head.

“Comfortable?” said the Doctor.

“Oh, aye,” said Jamie. “It’s nice. Sort of tickles, though.”

“Oh, yes,” said the Doctor. “Yes, that’s the, ah –” He broke off with an undignified squeak, for Jamie had planted a hand firmly on his thigh. “– gas bubbles,” he finished, “in the water. It’s fascinating, you know –” Jamie’s hand dragged slowly up his thigh to his hip. “The water starts out still – at the source –” Up his stomach, curving across his chest to his flank. Good gracious, it had been so long since he’d been seduced – not since – oh, too long. He’d forgotten what a delectable experience it was. He’d quite forgotten how to act, if he’d ever known in the first place. “– then it dips underground and comes out here all bubbly and no-one – no-one, ah –” Jamie’s hand was on his neck, sliding up to cup his cheek. “Ah.” 

“Will ye shut up?” said Jamie, and kissed him.

It was a kiss more enthusiastic than passionate, wet and messy, with more than a hint of inexperience – that or Jamie, like the Doctor, was out of practice. For a few seconds the Doctor fumbled, unsure what to do with his hands – or rather, where to put them first.

Water sloshed around them. One hand went to Jamie’s hip, where it rubbed circles; the other grabbed for his shoulder. He deepened and guided the kiss, tugging at Jamie’s lips, and when their tongues brushed together Jamie groaned into his mouth and pushed even closer into him. Slick, wet skin rubbed against slick, wet skin, their knees knocking together, both of Jamie’s hands clutching at him; and then, a touch dizzy and needing to breathe, they pulled away.

“That was nice,” said the Doctor, voice rough.

Jamie licked his lips, looking rather as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just down. Shifting, water rippling, he pulled himself fully onto the seat and before the Doctor saw what he was doing, Jamie was in his lap. Their thighs pressed and rubbed together as Jamie adjusted himself, his big hands running down the Doctor’s chest, settling on his hips.

“Are ye comfortable?” he said, smiling cheekily down at the Doctor.

The Doctor scowled up at him, his hands resting on Jamie’s lower back. He wondered if he dared touch lower. He was dying for a good grope, but he didn’t know how Jamie might react to having his bottom touched without warning. “Very, thank you.” He gave into a burning urge and put his hand on Jamie’s flat tummy, stroking lightly. Jamie wiggled, and kissed him.

He was shyer, this time, touching his lips to the corner of the Doctor’s mouth, lingering there was if he didn’t know what to do. The Doctor wondered if he was getting cold feet – and turned his head to kiss Jamie properly.

He tried to kiss Jamie gently, sweetly, but Jamie’s shyness dissipated almost at once and that former heat returned. Jamie pressed a hand to the side of his face and kissed him harder, all but shoving his tongue down the Doctor’s throat in a rush to get more, closer, _now_ , and the Doctor wanted so badly to reciprocate but he didn’t want to push Jamie, to ruin this. With a jolt he realised he was frightened. Which was nonsense, for this was nothing he’d not done before – but not with Jamie – and if he were to somehow hurt Jamie – he didn’t know if he could bear it.

Looping his arms around Jamie’s waist, he pulled him closer, pressing their bodies together. Heat was building up between them, friction, and it was almost too much and they’d hardly started – he was probably thinking too much, so he tried not thinking at all, and that was much better. He let his body move as it wanted to, hands roaming as they wished, touching every part of Jamie he could reach, and –

Abruptly, Jamie’s hand dipped between his legs and wrapped around his erection. The Doctor grunted, pulling back in surprised; by the time he’d caught his breath Jamie’s hand had begun to move. He gasped. Oh, it had been _far_ too long.

“Too fast?” said Jamie.

“No, no,” said the Doctor. “No, you keep on doing – just what you’re doing.” Jamie grinned at him and leaned down for another kiss.

_Oh, dash it all_ thought the Doctor, and let his hands run right down Jamie’s back to his bottom. Jamie started and drew back, and the Doctor moved his hands away – but Jamie took him by the wrists and popped his hands right back where they were. “Just keep on doin’ what you’re doin’,” he said with a smirk.

And after that, it was easy. It was so easy to make love to Jamie, the easiest thing in the world, as if they’d both been built for it, so easy I might have been choreographed. Their bodies moved together so easily in the water, skin gliding over skin, trading kisses back and forth as they pleased, hands roaming, caressing, touching for the sheet joy of touching. Jamie’s soft, breathy moans, the feel of his lips, the gentle rippling of the water, the way the light reflecting off the surface of the bath danced golden on his skin – he was a work of art.

Sitting back, the Doctor watched Jamie rock up against him, watching his face. The way he bit his lip, the way his ears fell closed and his head tipped back, that little wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as he moved in blissful concentration. He gasped out, “ _Doctor_ ,” his voice trembling, adoring, and the Doctor wished with both his hearts that there were some way to record this, so that he might play it back whenever he was lost or lonely. There was so much love in Jamie’s eyes and for a moment fear clutched at his hearts. What if this was too much – too fast – ought they to have sat down and talked about this?

Jamie was nuzzling at him, lips brushing his neck, his jaw bone, and his uncertainties faded. Jamie was getting impatient.

Squeezing Jamie’s thighs, rubbing little circles with the tips of his fingers, he looked down their bodies. The tip of Jamie’s cock was just above the surface of the water, flushed red and wet, pushing steadily harder and harder against his own. Jamie was gasping, hips moving in quick jerks, making the water beat and slosh against them; and it was almost embarrassing, the Doctor thought, all that fuss and agitation on account of him.

Almost. Jamie had followed his gaze, was looking down at himself, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, simultaneously enraptured and frustrated. With a grunt, he took his hand from the Doctor’s shoulder – and wrapped it around them both, squeezing and rubbing them together. “ _oh_ ,” he said, “that’s – _ahh_ –”

“Couldn’t agree more,” the Doctor choked out. Oh, _yes_ , that was even better. It was difficult to push back against Jamie, but the water helped, the buoyance, and he thrust up, wanting more of that glorious friction.

Better, but not quite better enough – Jamie was working them both together in his hand and the slide of Jamie’s cock against his felt wonderful, but his inexperience was showing. He would just have to – he reached down and put his hand at first over Jamie’s, then in it, lacing their fingers together and squeezing as he showed Jamie the way to do it.

“Ah,” Jamie panted, “ahh, oh – oh _Lord_ –” He tossed his head, breaking down into incoherent moans, too far gone to speak.

Not that the Doctor was much better off. It took all he had in him to keep his eyes open, but he just had to watch, to watch Jamie draw closer and closer. He was determined to see this through to the end.

Jamie thrust forward, harder, pressing them even tighter together, and the heads of their cocks slid together in a delicious new way. Gasping, Jamie repeated the motion, and even in the warmth of the baths the Doctor could feel the heat of his body, feel his pulse pounding in his chest and in his groin.

His own hearts fluttering in his chest, he drew his hand along their lengths, wrapping his fingers around the heads, working them together, slick and easy – and that did the trick. Jamie’s head fell back, his cry echoing against the vaulted ceiling. His whole body tensed once, twice, three times, and he slumped down, slowly subsiding into the Doctor’s arms.

Jamie looked down at him. His eyes were dark and hot, and it was that look that did it for the Doctor. He said, “oh,” and, “oh my, _Jamie_ ,” and he climaxed, coming all over himself, hands grabbing and clutching at Jamie in his eagerness to be touching every bit of him at once, to touch and caress everywhere – his hands slowed, settled, arms looping around Jamie’s waist, drawing him at last into a proper cuddle.

There he sat, water gently rocking around him, Jamie’s breaths hot against his ear, positively glowing with contentment. He hadn’t realised just how badly – hadn’t _let_ himself realise how badly – he had wanted that, not until he was in the act.

Jamie shifted atop him, sighed, their thighs sliding together. “Mmm.” He sat up, stretched. “That was good. Let’s do more of that, eh?”

“Planning ahead, are we?” The Doctor’s hands glided up and down Jamie’s flanks.

“Oh, aye.” Jamie kissed him, then with a sigh slid off his lap, sinking gently onto the seat. His leg hooked easily over the Doctor’s, playing with his feet. “Hey, you were right about this place, though. Really is something special.”

The Doctor let his eyes rake up and down Jamie. He was wet, flushed pink from his exertions and from the warm water. The golden lights softened him, made him look tender, exposed. Curls of damp hair were plastered to his forehead; one neat curl, pressed to his temple, was particularly enticing. The Doctor tucked a finger under it and looped it carefully behind his ear. Jamie shivered, almost flinching at the contact.

All at once, he remembered all the reasons they oughtn’t be doing this – oughtn’t have gone and done what they’d just gone and done. He was acutely aware of how fragile he’d made things between them – one wrong move and Jamie might hate him, or be hurt, and – it wasn’t as if he could just pat Jamie on the back and say, ‘well, that was rather fun, but we’d best make it a one-off, eh?’ No, they were too close for that. It was either dive in or bail out altogether.

He knew he absolutely couldn’t wriggle out of his – and yet –

“Yes, it’s fascinating.” He cleared his throat, Jamie’s foot running up and down his calf. “The water, ah, rises up to the surface a few miles north of here, with the bubbles –”

“Och, dinnae start _that_ again.” Jamie shifted in closer, nuzzled at him. “The bubbles are nice. I like the bubbles. Please stop explaining about the bubbles?” He touched his lips to the Doctor’s neck.

“Ah, well –” Jamie’s hand brushed his thigh and the Doctor flinched away from his kisses. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” said Jamie, drawing back a little. The Doctor avoided his eye. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing – nothing.” The Doctor swallowed. “It’s just – I feel as if I’ve taken advantage of you.”

“Taken advantage?” Jamie said, befuddled, almost laughing. “Don’t talk daft.” The Doctor didn’t answer. The bath was quiet, water stilling around their bodies.

Jamie’s hand touched his cheek, turning his head, forcing him to meet his gaze. “What’s this all about, eh?”

“It’s just that – well, we –” He was acutely aware of how absurd this was sounding, when Jamie was so evidently comfortable, all but draped over him – but he couldn’t shake it. “I’m far too old for you, for one thing.”

“Och, you’re not that old,” said Jamie, fingers brushing his cheekbone.

“I’m older than I look,” the Doctor reminded him.

“Aye, I know that,” said Jamie. “I dinnae mind.”

“You’re awfully young –”

“I’m a man grown and I know what I want,” said Jamie. “ _Taken advantage_ – och, for heaven’s sake – I practically threw myself at you.” A look of concern crossed his face. “Should I – should I mibbe not have –”

“Oh no, no.” Softening, the Doctor reached for him, pulling him closer. “No, no – you were marvellous.”

“Really?” a shy smile spread across Jamie’s face. “I was makin’ it up as I went along.”

“Your first seduction, I take it?” said the Doctor.

“Mmm, aye.” Jamie nosed at his neck, kissing his ear.

“Well, you’re a natural,” said the Doctor.

Jamie chuckled into his neck. “Aye, and don’t you forget it.” He touched his lips to the Doctor’s jaw. “And dinnae fash yerself. I’m fine. _We’re_ fine. Aren’t we?”

“Of course we are,” said the Doctor, running his hands up and down Jamie’s sides, up and down. “Don’t mind me. I’m a silly old man.”

Fingers twisting into his hair, Jamie tilted his head back and kissed him and kissed him, and when they drew apart the Doctor’s face was flushed and something was welling in his chest, a deep, deep fondness for Jamie – and an acute desire to kiss his nose, since it was just there.

He kissed Jamie’s nose. Jamie flinched, and laughed, and kissed his straight back.

“Oh, my,” said the Doctor, settling against the edge of the bath. “ _You_ are supposed to be relaxing.”

“I am relaxing!” Jamie protested. “Sex is relaxing.” Dipping his head, he murmured into the Doctor’s ear, “I’m so relaxed, Doctor.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, you still ought to have a good soak here,” he said. “And then we can go back to the palace – and we shall –”

The beds in the palace guest rooms, if memory served, were very large, and very soft. The thought of tumbling Jamie into one, and, hmm, getting to know him a little better was certainly – inspiring.

“Aye, then we’ll see.” With one last kiss to his cheek, Jamie pushed away from the edge of the bath, paddling out to the middle of the pool where the water was deep enough to swim.


End file.
